


You Damn Fool

by iwtv



Category: Black Sails
Genre: All Over Again, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pillow Talk, a bit of angst, also i love the idea of Thomas calling James a damn fool, borderline non-con, in an endearing way, like totally, so I was inspired for some fluff, so that NSFW painting of James and Thomas on tumblr wrecked me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 06:44:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8152741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwtv/pseuds/iwtv
Summary: Thomas stirred passions within him James had denied himself for far too long. Never before had he found another man so willing and so attractive to him, so much more than just another one of his kind looking for some release. And yet…Even as he felt the heat of desire sweep over him-felt Thomas’s lips grow wet against his own, his tongue probing and exploring all the crevices of his mouth, sucking on his lip-he felt a vehement heat of a different kind fill him that caused him to pull away and cast his eyes downward.





	

I. That was different

 

The initial meeting with Peter Ashe had taken up the better part of an hour. James was quite pleased that the man had volunteered his assistance, especially in the wake of the mass exodus of Thomas’s other guests. James wished he could have wrung all their necks.

Ashe and Thomas clearly had known each other for a while so in addition to introducing James, he and Thomas and Miranda played catch-up. James had eventually grown impatient. Even in a room surrounded by others James could not get his mind off of the kiss and the thousand and one questions it provoked. None of them would receive answers as long as Peter was around.

When at last Ashe took his leave James was equally grateful and nervous that Thomas prodded him to linger “a moment longer.” When the room was reduced to the three of them Miranda bowed out rather abruptly, giving both himself and Thomas pecks on the cheek. James was still in some shock over her behavior concerning the two of them. It fit perfectly with how he’d come to know her, yet he had never dreamed that her progressive stance stretched into such realms.

Now alone with Thomas, they chatted lightly about Peter and shared in an optimistic tone about the future of their endeavor in Nassau. James counted down the minutes, bracing himself for when the conversation would take a turn.

It was the very air itself that seemed to change when Thomas closed in on him and kissed him again. It sent shockwaves through James’s body no less intense as when Thomas had first committed the act. His heart pounded in his chest and sounded in his ears, skin tingling strangely underneath the layers of his officer’s uniform. This time, however, James embraced Thomas’s advance with more eagerness because…God help him.

Thomas stirred passions within him James had denied himself for far too long. Never before had he found another man so willing and so attractive to him, so much more than just another one of his kind looking for some release. And yet…

Even as he felt the heat of desire sweep over him, felt Thomas’s lips grow wet against his own, his tongue probing and exploring all the crevices of his mouth, sucking on his lip, he felt a vehement heat of a different kind fill him that caused him to pull away and cast his eyes downward.

“We shouldn’t,” he said firmly, staring at the floor and placing his hands behind his back, though for some reason James couldn’t find it in him to stand perfectly straight as usual.

“I’m fairly certain you’ve already had this conversation with Miranda, James,” said Thomas quite matter-of-factly.

*James.*

Hearing his first name over Thomas’s lips made his groin stir, which in turn made him take a step back. He looked up at last, hoping his emotions weren’t written across his face.

“We did-she did,” he corrected quickly. “But that was different.”

“Why?”

Thomas was looking at him the way he had on so many other occasions, with a ghost of a smile on his lips and his eyes dancing with dogged determination. And as before it had the effect of making James’s otherwise stoic lips tick upward.

“I should think that would be obvious, my lord,” he replied.

Thomas raised his hand, palm facing towards him.

“Please, don’t call me that.”

He looked pained, as though the formal title had…what? Hurt his feelings?

James felt his throat constricting with the onset of some inexplicable emotion. His grin faded.

“You are a man,” he said firmly. “It’s one thing to forget propriety between a man and a woman; an entirely different thing between…”

He faltered, taking a deep breath. “Between…”

“Between two men, I believe is the phrase you’re grasping for,” Thomas finished for him.

James nodded. “Yes, my lor—yes.”

Jesus Christ, he was being a perfect idiot.

“Please forgive me, I—”

Thomas took a step towards him.

“James, it’s all right. It is all the same, I assure you.”

His voice was soft and velvet-like and it made James want to melt down to the floor. He took another step back, biting his tongue. It was hard, putting distance between them. Thomas was looking at him with concern, blue eyes searching his own green ones with that same curiosity and want they had possessed right before they had kissed the first time.

“James, please…”

As soon as Thomas moved again James stepped back again, clutching his hands behind his back so hard they ached.

“Thomas, stop.”

His voice shocked him with how raw it sounded. He was, in fact, now breathing heavily. He gritted his teeth together and carefully said, “You cannot know how difficult this is for me. Please. Do not come any closer. I can’t. I need to go. Please understand.”

Thomas was watching him with sad eyes that made James want to scream. He quickly crossed the room and headed for the door even though his legs desperately wanted to swing around and bring him back into Thomas’s arms, to feel his body so close to his own. He fought the urge to the door, where the servant opened it and let him out into freedom.

It was night and the air was crisp. James took several deep breaths. He walked down to his carriage looking over his shoulder. He half expected Thomas to come out after him.

He was fully disappointed when he did not.

_______________________________________________________________________________

II. Gods and hedges

 

By the time he was fully recovered for his next meeting with Lord Hamilton James had resolved himself never to allow Thomas to take advantage of him again. That *was* what had happened the first time, was it not? He’d had a moment of weakness; a slip-up. He had to admit to himself how attractive Thomas was; more so than any man he’d seen in some time. That was the reason for the slip-up. Thomas was not some sailor in a darkened alley or in the bowels of a ship he could take pleasure from and then be done with. Their relationship was too involved for that, ironically. If Thomas tried to pursue him again James would simply remind him of this fact and how dangerous such a course would be. Thomas was, after all, a man of logic and reasoning.

They whittled away the late morning and afternoon hours in Thomas’s study as usual, taking breaks for biscuits and tea and a brief visit by one of the earl’s colleagues who wanted a status update on their progress. After he had left Thomas suggested they take a short walk out into the garden behind the house. James had never been in the expansive mass of well manicured greenery himself, only had glimpsed at it once or twice.

They were standing in front of a marble water fountain carved in the likeness of Dionysus holding a bunch of grapes. James commented that it was an uncommon choice for water fountain statues. Thomas informed him he’d had requested it personally. James snorted.

“Why am I not surprised?” he drolled out. Thomas gave him a grin that could best be described as mischievous. James was certain he liked it, and was just as certain he didn’t like its implications.

“He was the god of fertility and wine,” said Thomas. “Later he was considered a patron of the arts. He created wine and spread the art of viticulture. But Dionysus had a dual nature; on one hand, he brought joy and divine ecstasy. However, he could also harbor brutal and blinding rage, thus reflecting the dual nature of wine, they say.”

James snorted again.

“The dual nature of wine?” he said doubtfully.

Thomas shrugged, hands clasped behind his back, mirroring James as they looked up at the statue.

“I think for modern times the point is more about dual nature itself,” said Thomas. “It’s a reflection of the human condition, don’t you think? People always have two faces, one they show the world and one that stays in shadow, only to be seen by a very rare few, if anyone at all.”

James felt more than saw Thomas’s gaze on him. He said nothing but continued walking around the statue. He heard Thomas behind him.

“Some people believe that this shadowed nature is always bad or evil, while others believe that it’s neither good nor evil, it just is.”

“While that’s all very fascinating, I’ve told you before, I’m no expert in philosophy, Thom—my lord.”

Damnit, he really needed to watch himself today.

“And as I’ve *told* you,” replied Thomas, “Don’t call me that. Not when we’re alone.”

“Alone or not alone, it is your title,” said James. “And as I’m your liaison I will refer to you as is prop—”

Thomas swiftly darted in front of him, blocking his path.

“It’s all right, James. I understand, I do.”

James’s eye twitched. “There’s nothing to understand.”

He made his way around Thomas and continued walking. They had come to a series of tall hedges. James walked along them, wondering if perhaps he should turn back towards the house before Thomas made another advance at him.

“You think that because you’ve been told you’re entire life what is right and wrong, good and bad, that every single one of those items is, by default, true,” Thomas said, right behind him. “It is not. I know you’re smarter than that, James.”

James felt his ire stoked. Thomas’s words went straight through him. Just who in the hell did he think he was? Forcing himself to remain calm, James said over his shoulder, “If you please, my lord, I’d rather not discuss this any further.”

“Damnit, James!”

Thomas grabbed his wrist. James stopped and spun around. He’d had enough of this. He was going to tell Lord Hamilton *precisely* what his philosophical views were on lords who thought they knew it all.

Instead Thomas assaulted his lips and his crotch. He placed a warm palm over James’s white trousers and shoved him up into the well-trimmed hedges, their perfectly straight cut acting as a sponge-like wall against his back.

A whimper escaped James’s lips. Thomas’s tongue demanded entrance, his body oppressively pushing into James’s.

“Stop, please,” James panted out, weakly trying to push Thomas back by his arms. Thomas rubbed his hand over James’s crotch harder and James felt himself responding. While he had spoken Thomas pressed his advantage and plunged his tongue inside James’s mouth for a third time. James moaned, hating himself. Yet Thomas felt…

He squeezed his eyes closed until he saw black. If he just waited this out, Thomas would pull away.

But he was latching onto Thomas’s lips, his tongue. Even his hips betrayed him, bucking into Thomas’s touch. He felt his tricorne fall off somewhere over his shoulder.

“It’s all right,” Thomas panted out between kisses. “It’s all right. Please. Let it happen. I want you, James. I know you want me too.”

“No,” James mumbled out. He was being absurdly weak. Again. Thomas laved his tongue over his bare throat, digging down past his cravat and to the thin skin there. James felt his cock harden by the second. He was perfectly capable of pushing Thomas away, applying brute force to the situation. He didn’t want to, but he had no choice.

With a cry he grabbed Thomas’s lapels and pushed back. Thomas’s eyes went wide with the sudden force. He stumbled backwards, just keeping himself from falling.

“I’m sorry,” said James. “I’m sorry.”

Thomas said nothing, the shock draining from his face. His hair was disheveled from the bushes, cheeks flushed rose-red. Something in James roared to life. He crossed the distance he had put between them in two long strides. He dropped to one knee and fumbled around with Thomas’s fly, yanking it open. He dipped his fingers inside until he found what he was after. He pulled out Thomas’s half-hard cock and placed it in his mouth. Thomas let out a loud moan.

“Oh fuck James,” he muttered. His hands came to clutch at James’s shoulders. James sunk down to his other knee and let Thomas’s cock fill his mouth, let the warm, thick girth of it rub against his cheeks and tongue. He could feel it hardening as he rolled his tongue against it. He took down more of it, hearing Thomas moan and stutter above him.

James opened his eyes. Thomas had a small mass of soft fuzzy curls at the base of his shaft and below it…

James took hold of his balls and fondled them, then moved his hand to the base of Thomas’s cock and pulled. The fingers at his shoulders moved into his hair. Thomas pulled out his queue and ran his fingers through the base of James’s dark coppery hair. James moved his lips faster over Thomas’s cock, until all of it was slick and wet from his mouth. He pulled off completely and rolled his tongue around its tip. He looked up. Thomas was lost, eyes lidded as he looked down at him, mouth parted.

“Don’t stop,” he said.

James shifted on his knees and took hold of either side of Thomas’s ass, pulling his mouth along his cock. Thomas responded by gently fucking into his mouth, cock working its way back and forth inside his mouth until James felt his own cock hard and heavy in his pants.

He was beyond any caring for right and wrong, good and bad. He opened his trousers and pulled out his cock, pumping it as Thomas pumped into his mouth. It only took another couple of minutes before he came, shooting out onto the grass and over his fist. Thomas moaned and came soon after. James took some of it in his mouth and swallowed, then spit the rest out. He squeezed along Thomas’s cock until the other man was spent.

Just when the red heat of shame began to creep over him again Thomas pulled him up and gave him one long, gentle kiss, fingers carefully wiping at the corners of his mouth. No, not at all like time spent with sailors in darkened alleys or in the bowels of ships. Not ever again.

_______________________________________________________________________________

III. If you were going to stay

 

“Dionysus,” said James, hiding a grin. He pulled on his trousers and stood up from the bed. From its other side Thomas was giving him a rare confused look.

“Two weeks ago when we were out in the garden you were talking about Dionysus,” James clarified.

Thomas lay back in bed, still nude. James mumbled his disapproval and turned around to finish dressing.

“Yes, well, Dionysus probably didn’t have nearly the same regard for clothing as you do,” Thomas teased.

James frowned, glancing over his shoulder and pulling on his shirt.

“What I was *going* to say,” he continued with mock arrogance, “Was that he was the god of fertility, among other things. Doesn’t that strike you as contradictory? After all there can be nothing fertile between two men.”

Thomas laughed out right and sunk further into the bed. James frowned, finally turning back around.

“No, indeed there cannot be,” said Thomas. “But I didn’t explain the dual nature of wine, which, if you were going to stay and I were to explain, you would come to realize that being contradictory makes perfect sense for Dionysus.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” James gruffed out, pushing his feet into his boots. Thomas’s mirth faded somewhat.

“You could stay a bit longer, if you wanted to,” he offered.

James sighed, ignoring certain voices in his head Thomas’s words triggered.

“It’s nearly time for our session to be over with. I should go,” he said.

James left the Hamilton household slowly. He walked the distance out to his carriage with heavy steps. As he sat in the back of the carriage he looked out the tiny window at the shrinking house, hoping that the next week at sea would pass quickly.

_____________________________________________________________________________

IV. Obligations

 

Thomas moaned, lying flat on his stomach, one arm hanging limply off the edge of the bed.

“God James, you have a hidden talent.”

James straddled him, braced on his knees, while his hands worked hard. He massaged Thomas’s bare back, shoulders, and neck and grinning to himself.

“It’s just something my grandmother used to do to my grandfather after he would return from merchant or fishing trips. I must have watched her do it a thousand times.”

“Mmm, well you certainly learned it well. Oh, hell…”

“Shhh!” James hissed at him. “You’re being quite loud. The servants are going to hear.”

Thomas flapped a dismissive wrist at him. “This house is quite large, James. And besides, they’ll just assume I’ve snuck in another mistress.”

James frowned. He rubbed his thumbs over the broad expanse of Thomas’s shoulders, then applied pressure as he dragged his palms down close to his ribs, smiling broadly to himself when Thomas moaned.

“We should light some candles,” said Thomas. “Here, allow me.”

James shuffled off him and realized with a start it was close to dusk.

“Damnit. I’ve got to go.”

“But you don’t have any obligations this late, surely,” said Thomas.

“Just the one that keeps people from growing suspicious when I leave your house at this hour,” James replied, hastily dressing.

Thomas came behind him and wrapped his arms firmly around James’s body, trapping him as he planted small kisses along the back of his neck. James closed his eyes and hummed at the touch.

“Just a little while longer? Half an hour?” Thomas whispered at his ear. James breathed in the scent of candle wax and ink and leather and something that was purely Thomas. He turned around and kissed him softly on the lips. The kiss deepened and he let Thomas lead him back to the bed.

“Half an hour,” James repeated. He had meant to sound firm but he couldn’t seem to raise his voice enough. “No more.”

Thomas licked his lips slowly and smiled.

______________________________________________________________________________

V. Permission

 

James woke first. The master bedroom was situated so that it faced just slightly east and the morning sun crept through some of the window and curtains. It fell over James’s face but James had insisted he didn’t mind this side of the bed; he would rather be up earlier than later. Still, he had probably slept an extra hour this morning and he certainly wasn’t going to complain about it.

Beside him Thomas still appeared sound asleep, facing away from him, his side and back revealing the barest of movements as he breathed. The bed sheets covered the top of his leg but had scrunched down at a sharp angle underneath the mattress below his other leg, revealing an enticing stretch of smooth skin for James to look at.

James turned carefully on his side and watched Thomas sleep, studying his pale hair and how some of it had grown to touch the tip of his ear; he would cut it soon. James twisted around and slid open the drawer to the small nightstand and pulled out a bottle. He opened it and poured out some of its clear, thick contents, cursing silently when some of it dripped over the sheets. Once his hand was coated with it he replaced the bottle and slid his hand under the sheets that covered Thomas’s rump. He pressed his middle finger lightly over Thomas’s cleft and rubbed it slowly. Thomas stirred, shifting over the mattress but not turning around. James shuffled closer until he could hear him breathe. He gave Thomas a chaste kiss on his shoulder which also afforded him the chance to see if Thomas was awake yet.

He pressed harder on Thomas’s cleft once it was all slick, so that his fingers slipped deeper and grazed his rim. Now Thomas let out a very conscious-sounding hum and wiggled his rump. James pressed against him, kissing his shoulder again and rubbing up and down his cleft. He made lazy circles with his finger around his rim until Thomas wiggled harder against the press of his fingers. James let it go on until Thomas twisted to face him and bit back a grin.

James kissed him, testing his tightness but not seeking entry.

“You still have to hear me say it, don’t you?” Thomas asked softly. “Even though you know I want it.”

James felt a stab of guilt and looked down. *Did* he know what Thomas wanted? He would trick himself into thinking he did not. Their time spent behind closed doors progressed each and every time, and yet even after all these months of growing close to him James had yet to completely eliminate his shame; he needed to hear Thomas give his explicit permission once they reached a certain point. A part of him felt ridiculous over it. Thomas was always so very patient with him.

Thomas kissed him and brushed away his loose hair from his face. He’d grown accustomed to taking it out of its queue completely since he’d been sleeping with the Hamiltons. Thomas and Miranda both enjoyed his long, reddish locks.

“Yes,” Thomas said to him now, sapphire eyes slightly lidded with desire. James moaned and kissed him with more force, working his rim in earnest now that the burden of guilt and insecurity was—temporarily—lifted.

He fingered Thomas until he could work all three fingers in and his partner’s body grew warm and flushed against his own. He left small red marks along the side of Thomas’s neck and the curve of his shoulder as he pushed his fingers in deep and made Thomas come. He was addicted to this; all of it. Everything from the smell of Miranda’s perfume wafting through the house and food from the Hamilton kitchen, to the high-pitched, merry giggling of the maids in the afternoon as they entertained each other while cleaning; even the sounds of horse hooves in the morning clopping outside a cracked window down the cobblestone road. So unlike the mud-ridden streets where he lived.

There was another word for feeling like your world revolved around someone else’s, but he was too terrified of speaking it.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

VI. You damn fool

 

James finally got out of bed, tired of not feeling tired.

He turned to look back at Miranda and Thomas sleeping soundly and sighed. They had spent the night together, the three of them. It had been amazing, even though James had been uncomfortable in the beginning of these sessions, as he always was. However both Miranda and Thomas were patient and had rather devlish ways of helping him relax so that all of three of them were comfortable. He gave a half grin at the thought before it faded and he quietly left the bedroom.

He went across the hall and into the smaller guest room there. It was the middle of the night and the rest of the house was silent. He sat on the bed and rubbed a hand over his face. This was the third night in a row he had not slept well. He hadn’t seen Thomas and Miranda for nearly two weeks and had thought a night with them would surely have him sleeping well. It had not.

He was worried. The proposal for Nassau was becoming more and more complex, and his feelings towards the Hamiltons no less so.

For starters he never wanted to leave them, even after his job as liaison was completed. He’d begun having ridiculous ideas about the three of them together. He’d silently admonish himself, knowing it simply wasn’t possible. Yet the thoughts persisted, drove him half mad, especially at night.

He startled when the door creaked open. He relaxed when Thomas’s tall frame entered the room and quietly closed the door behind him.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. What are you doing?”

He carried a candle with him which he sat down on the dresser. Its slight but bright light painted him in contrasting gentle yellow and deep shadows.

“Sorry if I woke you,” said James. “I’m just…having trouble sleeping lately. Please, go back to bed.”

Instead Thomas sat down beside him.

“Something I can help you with, perhaps?” he offered.

James looked away, all his fears suddenly at the forefront of his thoughts.

“This is impossible,” he said after a moment.

“What is?”

“This. Us. You and Miranda and myself. It cannot continue indefinitely.”

“Why not?”

James blinked. Thomas always had a direct and often challenging way of responding to prompts he didn’t agree with.

“Thomas,” James said with finality, “You know what I’m talking about. It’s very dangerous, even if it does not seem so. And I…”

He stopped, suddenly unwilling to continue the conversation. Thomas prodded him, voice suddenly neutral in a way that gave James chills.

“If you’re concerned over losing your position in the navy, I can understand, but rest assured you are in no immediate danger, James.”

James looked at him sharply. The candlelight danced over his face. James couldn’t tell if his expression was soft or stern.

“That’s not what concerns me,” he said quickly. “It isn’t a…tangible problem. It’s more about how I feel. About the situation. About us. I…oh, damn it all.”

James sighed miserably and raked a hand through his hair. He stood and let out a huff.

“Nevermind. I’m sorry. It’s nothing.”

“No. It’s something.”

Thomas rose quickly in front of him before he could plan a retreat towards the door.

“Tell me,” Thomas prodded.

James bit his tongue. Thomas was so fucking patient. And understanding. And *loving.* James felt everything rising in his throat to the point it was hard to breathe.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said very quietly because he knew his voice was shaking and Christ, what was *wrong* with him?

Thomas’s hands cupped his cheeks, forcing him to meet his gaze. This time Thomas looked unsure. His eyes darted all over James’s face, searching.

“James, I…”

James pulled Thomas’s hands away from his face. The candlelight stung his eyes.

“It should not be possible,” he said in an uneven tone. Damn his voice. He glanced up at the door again. He could push past Thomas, roughly if necessary. Grab his clothes to leave. But they were in the master bedroom, with Miranda.

“What should not be possible?” Thomas was asking him, perhaps for a second time. He had grown rigid. James glanced up, then found himself staring at him, repeating the statement in his mind.

“What I mean,” he began slowly, feeling as though he were about to condemn himself, “is that I used to think such things were not possible between two men, but now I find myself wondering how it’s happened that I’ve fallen in love with you. I cannot understand it. Yet it is.”

The floor and his bare feet blurred under him. When there was no immediate response his nerve snapped. Of course. He’d been right all along. It was just an infatuation. No doubt he’d just shocked Thomas. He brushed by the other man with hardly an upward glance and focused on the door. He reached out for the doorknob and made to twist it when Thomas’s hand clamped down over his own.

“I love you too, you damn fool.”

James’s eyes snapped up in surprise. There was no shock or even surprise on Thomas’s features.

James made to speak, to ask gut-reaction questions that really made no sense once his brain stumbled over them. What? Why? How? They all died on his lips before he could utter them. Thomas took a deep breath and smiled at him.

“Come. Let’s go back to bed. Miranda was good enough to have a pitcher of water left for the night, and I could use a drink.”

James snorted despite himself. He let out a breath, feeling very foolish indeed, though not for any of the reasons he had ever considered he’d feel foolish *for.* No, this was much, much better. The relief was so great, in fact, that by the time they’d re-entered the bedroom he’d forgotten about things like guilt and shame. After that night, he would never feel their presence again.

 

***


End file.
